Happy Returns
by Play It Grand
Summary: Sam and Daniel discuss Daniel’s return, his slowly regaining his memories of past events, and how happy Sam is to have him back verses her feelings when he was dying. 3 Chapters total.
1. Chapter 1

Happy Returns

by Play It Grand

Season 7

Born: 2/14/07

Related Episodes: The Curse, Meridian, Summit, Last Stand, Fallen

Idea: Sam and Daniel discuss Daniel's return, his slowly regaining his memories of past events, and haw happy Sam is to have him back verses her feelings when he was dying.

Author's note: I'm always musing on how it must have been for Sam to have Daniel back, as she was the most emotional of any of the team in "Meridian". There's also the fact that she was the only one that, up until Full Circle, had no idea what had become of Daniel for sure. I wanted to take this chance to allow Sam to re-bond with Daniel. While working on this I reread Sabine C. Bauer's SG-1 novel, Trial by Fire, and realized that my story could precede it perfectly if shaped to do so. Chronologically, my story comes right before the events of that novel, which I highly recommend!

I want to make it perfectly clear that this is NOT a Daniel and Sam shipping story!!! If that's what you're looking for, turn back now because you won't find it here!!! EEEWWW!

Special Thanks to: my friend Geneva who so kindly volunteered to beta read this short story for me.

I live for comments and constructive criticism!

Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Dr. Daniel Jackson sat in his office . . . _his_ office . . . the thought felt strange as it passed through is mind. It didn't really make all that much sense, and yet somehow it felt right.

That is exactly how Daniel felt about being back. He sat at his desk, calmly looking around at all the books and artifacts that lined the shelves . . . _his_ books, _his_ artifacts, _his_ shelves . . . and couldn't remember acquiring a single one of them. Yet somehow he knew that they belonged to him. . . . Well, everything except for the fish tank that was percolating steadily over in the corner, its colorful occupants eying him curiously.

Despite these strangely familiar surroundings, Daniel found the most comfort in the warm coffee mug he nursed in his hands. It was like holding the warm hand of an old friend, except the pressure to make conversation wasn't there. The coffee in that mug comforted him silently, incapable of even giving him the look that he had recently come to associate with being asked, "So . . . how are you doing?"

Daniel just sat quietly, allowing his mind to go blank and the intoxicating aroma of the espresso – with one cream and two sugars – to wash over him, lifting one passing memory over another up to his mind's eye.

Faces and places flowed by, like wafer thin Fall leaves carried by a purposeful breeze. Some he could identify: his team mates, people and places on the base. Others he sensed were strongly familiar to him, but it was as if the familiarity came from another life that was not his own. In the first days since he had returned "home", Daniel had read all the mission reports he could get his hands on, and through them he was at least able to identify the images he was seeing – he knew what they were and what had happened, but yet his own memories of them still seamed shrouded in a thin veil that he couldn't quite see through, try as he might.

But Daniel knew – not so much that he remembered but he just _knew_ – that giving up was not an option. He allowed the images to absorb all his energy as he searched for the hole in the veil.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Major Samantha Carter came to visit her good friend, Daniel Jackson – the friend she had thought she had lost a year ago. The friend that, up until recently, she had convinced herself she would probably never see again, and, just as General Hammond had advised her, she had almost finally forced herself to live with it.

Then her expectations were suddenly turned upside-down.

_Where did you come by this intel, Colonel?_

_. . . Daniel told me._

Now, just a couple of weeks after his miraculous return, Daniel sat at his desk just the way she had seen him sit there so many times before. It was as if he'd never left. As if all of the last year had only been a bad dream where he was strangely absent.

_I don't know why we wait to tell people how we really feel. I guess I always thought you knew. _

But it hadn't been a dream, or even a nightmare. It had been real, and she needed to remember that, for Daniel's sake.

It hadn't been easy for him, she new. He tried to hide it, just like how he always hid his own suffering from the rest of the team. He would always say, "I'm fine".

_You're the kind of person who would lay down his life for someone he doesn't even know._

Sam watched Daniel in silence as she leaned on the door frame of his office. He hadn't noticed her. _Typical_, Sam thought, smiling gently to herself. _He always seems to be staring at something light-years away when he's daydreaming like this. _

Sam was in no hurry to break Daniel out of his musings. Instead she remained a silent observer in the doorway, savoring the very fact that things were back to how they should be. Daniel was back where he belonged. Even just seeing him there and noting the expression on his face seemed to bring her an immense amount of comfort. His eyebrows were gently furrowed as he concentrated on whatever images were glazing his clear blue eyes. His hands raised the coffee mug that lay wrapped in them without conscious thought. The taste seemed to go unnoticed. It was as if the body sought to occupy itself while the mind roamed free. And to think, not so long ago there had been consciousness without body, being without form. Eating and breathing had been old habits rather than necessities.

_I wonder if he missed his coffee . . . _

In some ways Sam burned to ask what it had been like, to satisfy her scientific curiosity. Then again, a part of her preferred to remain as ignorant of what it was like as she knew Daniel was now. It was an unknown, but it was one that Daniel didn't seem to miss. There are things that are better left unknown, and Daniel's lack of interest in his previous state of being told her that this was probably one of those things.

As she continued to watch him, Sam recognized that there was something different about Daniel. Actually, that's not quite true. She had noticed it for the first time on the day they had found him again. Try as she might, she couldn't put her figure on what had changed. Sure, he looked a year older, but the distinction between who he was then and who is now was much more than skin deep. His personality was the same and his interests hadn't changed . . .

_You were – _are_ – brilliant!_

Sam shook her head, dislodging the thought and letting it drift away, forgotten. _None of that matters. He's back now. That's all that matters._

Sam could have willingly pulled up a chair and kept vigil over her friend's contemplations for hours, but unfortunately she did have some work to do. Although she had now assured herself that Daniel was in fact still here and he would no doubt tell her he was doing "fine", she still wasn't willing to walk away from him without talking with him, even for just a few minutes.

She reached in and rapped gently on the side of one of the many wooden bookshelves.

Daniel gave a slight start as clarity returned to his eyes and he loosened his almost desperate grip on his half full coffee mug. "Oh, hi Sam."

"Hey . . . how're you doing?" The words were out of Sam's mouth before she thought about it. She cringed. Daniel forgave her with a wry smile and a dry little chuckle.

"I'm fine."

Sam wandered over to the workbench that Daniel was perched at and leaned her elbows on it, gently folding her arms. "Didn't General Hammond order you to take some time off?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, since I can't really trust my own memory," Daniel said with his eyes brightening innocently under mockingly furrowed brows, "but didn't he tell you the same thing?"

Sam's smile grew as Daniel's attempted to match it. "I won't tell if you don't."

"Deal."

They fell into a comfortable silence while Daniel checked on an e-mail his computer had just alerted him to – yet another "welcome back" message from another member of the base personnel – while Sam waited patiently, letting her eyes roam over the familiar clutter on the desk.

Then she noticed the mug of coffee that Daniel had momentarily abandoned, the surprise tricking her lungs into believing they needed more air. The sound of a sharp intake of breath prompted Daniel to leave the e-mail until later.

"Sam? What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she said a little too quickly, giving him a small forced smile. She tried to relax her posture again by moving to half-sit on a nearby stool.

Daniel wasn't having any of it. "No, I know that look. Spill."

While it was great that Daniel remembered enough to recognize when she had a problem, Sam was willing to bet this was one of the worst times for him to do it. As she continued to avoid meeting his gaze, Sam said as casually as she could manage, "I was just surprised to see that mug again. I gave that to you for Christmas about seven years ago."

"Oh, you did? I found it in a box of stuff you guys had rescued from my apartment after I . . . well, you know."

Sam nodded silently, pushing back the painful memories. _It doesn't matter. He's back now._

Daniel gently lifted the half-full mug up to his well trained archeologist's eyes, careful not to spill the precious contents as he tilted it. It was a black porcelain mug like any you would find in a tourist trap's gift shop. This one had a standard image from the Egyptian Book of the Dead on it, printed in passable detail. As Osiris stared up at Daniel out of his left eye as he sat on this throne with two women, one of which might be Isis, ministering over him, Sam held her breath.

Daniel examined the design on the mug as he would look at any ancient artifact, his studious eyes willing the mug to tell him its story. His forehead creased under the strain of his concentration.

"It's The Judgment of Ani, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Sam replied cautiously but struggling to sound casual, barely daring to hope that Daniel would not remember the significance of the enthroned figure.

When Daniel had come home and started to ask questions about his past, Sam, Teal'c, and the Colonel had done everything they could to encourage him to remember on his own. Yet Daniel's loss of memory hadn't effected his determination in the least. Once he realized that there were reports on each of his missions – reports that he himself had written – there was no keeping them from him . . . at least not the ones he _knew_ existed. Thinking only of Daniel's best interests, his teammates had held back a select few that they didn't want him to have to tackle alone. Included were those times when SG-1 – or particular members thereof – got themselves into mortal danger in the past year, and as usual there had been a fair few. Most notably had been the Colonel's play date in Baal's funhouse. Since Daniel had a nasty habit of taking on all the blame there was to be had and then some, that one had to go. Knowing that if he hadn't ascended he would have been around to help, Daniel would torture himself to no end. Never mind the fact that Colonel O'Neill didn't want it to come up . . . _ever. _The stories of Daniel's encounters with Osiris had also been excluded from the boxes Daniel was given.

_Please God, all this change has been hard enough on him! Don't let him remember, not right now! . . . But if he is going to remember now at least I'm here for him._

She watched Daniel carefully for signs of recognition, barely listening to him has he described the significance of the symbols found in the image, weaving the story and bringing it to life with his enthusiasm as only he could. Sam wanted to listen, but her concern made it impossible. All she could do was watch and try to silence the voice inside that was begging for Teal'c or Colonel O'Neill to show up and give her a reason to steer Daniel clear of that damn mug.

_Oh no . . . too late._

Daniel's lecture on the cultural significance of the prevalence of wheat bundles and other harvested goods in the piece was suddenly silenced in midsentence, his eyes glued to the green face and black almond-shaped eye of Osiris. He inhaled slowly, the sound grating against Sam's eardrums, and then he seemed to hold it, unable to let go. Sam had enough time to wonder if something weird had happened and time had stopped before Daniel showed any sign of being conscious of her presence again.

"Sarah", he said quietly. Mournfully. Guiltily.

_Dammit._

"How? . . . she was taken as a host by Osiris. . . . She escaped. I saw her again," Daniel's eyes raced around the room as his mind struggled to put the hidden memories back where they belonged. His voice was listless, all enthusiasm drained by the realization. "I saw her at that Goa'uld summit. I tried to trap her, to get her back to the Tok'ra so they could get Osiris out . . . but I had to leave without her."

Sam could already feel the weight of the guilt that Daniel was piling on himself from across the table.

_Dammit, where's the Colonel when you need him? None of us could ever snap Daniel out of one of these moods better than him!_

As Sam finished inwardly praying that the Colonel's ears were burning, she found Daniel gazing at her, trying to find a way to escape.

"What's happened to her, Sam? Has anyone seen her?"

She had to look away. His gaze was just too painful to meet. She shifted on the hard wooden stool, sitting all the way on it and bracing her feet against the top most rung as she tried to wrap her arms protectively around her knees. She wished there was one more rung above it. Then she could really sit in the fetal position she felt she needed to hide in. But then she realized that there was someone else in the room who probably was feeling the instinct to curl up in a ball way worse than she was. And he was waiting for her answer.

"I saw her," Sam choked out, hardly believing she was able to speak at all. Her voice didn't sound like her own, the lump of sympathy in her throat making it thick and husky.

"When?" Daniel's voice was quiet, yet demanding, his eyes wide and his hands gripping the edge of the counter as if he thought his lab was going to crash like a crippled cargo ship. The coffee cup sat alone in front of him, steaming with a false promise of comfort. "What happened? Was she alright?"

"It was our first mission after . . ." Sam stopped. She couldn't say it. She skipped it and when on, struggling to sound more casual, but her eyes refused to look at Daniel. She didn't want to see the expression on his face. "The Asgard needed us to rescue one of their scientists from research lab. Unfortunately, Osiris happened to be in the mothership hovering over the lab. It was only a matter of time before she located it and came in without knocking. She was fine. Osiris seems to be moving up in Anubis's ranks. She had a small army of his Jaffa with her."

She forced herself to look up at him, and though she tried to fight it, her gaze locked with his. The pain, the sadness she saw in his eyes was indescribable. His voice, though not hard or accusatory, hurt her heart. "Why am I just hearing about his now? Where was the report?"

Her eyes dropped for cover, her mouth locked, her voice no longer at her command.

"You took it out. You were worried about how I'd take it." It wasn't a question.

"We all were," Sam said in a small voice. All that she could manage.

The resigned sigh that followed surprised her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Daniel sighed._ I should have seen this coming._

The fact that Sarah was still out there somewhere, still being used like fashionable clothing by that damn parasite, Osiris, somehow wasn't a surprise. He hadn't been able to save Sha're, so why should rescuing Sarah be any easier? The fact that they'd tried to keep the memory of her from him though . . .

It was that strange protective loyalty. He'd noticed it on Vis Uban. It was one of the things that made Daniel think that going with these people – people he didn't know but who seemed to know _and care_ a hell of a lot about him – was the right thing to do. No doubt it had been there for years before he left them, and now he was back. Now he didn't know whether to be happy or mad.

Part of him was glad and wanted to give Sam a reassuring smile. She sat there petrified, watching him but never looking up high enough to see his face. She, Jack and Teal'c had done it protect him. Their concern warmed his heart, telling him yet again that he had made the right choice in coming home.

But another part of him, the part that felt anger at being kept in the dark "for his own protection", pushed aside the comfort. They didn't have the right to do that. They should have known better. He wasn't a child. He could take it.

Or could he?

As he had read from his own reports, he could feel the pressure, the guilt that lay buried between the lines even when none of it had been his fault. There always seemed to be some hidden what-if that he seemed to have thought would have made all the difference. If he'd been that hard on himself then, and those were the least dangerous of the reports . . . . Well, no wonder they'd tried to protect him, and as much as he felt like he could, he didn't have the right to be mad at them for it.

Sam looked like she expected it, though. She still hadn't moved or made a sound, and seemed to be bracing herself against an impending blow. It spoke a dozen more volumes on how much she, Jack and Teal'c cared. They knew perfectly well how mad he would be, but they did it anyway.

Unable to bear seeing Sam perched on the stool like that any longer, Daniel finally spoke the only words that he could find to fit the gaping silence.

"Thank you, Sam."

First Sam jolted fractionally at the sound of his voice, as if she felt the blow she'd been waiting for but then realized she actually didn't. Then, like an armadillo peeking from its shell to check if the coast is clear before coming out, she released enough to look at him properly.

Wanting to reassure her further, Daniel said softly, "I understand what you tried to do, and I'm grateful."

Sam uncurled further, letting her back and shoulders relax as she seemed to find just enough voice to say, "We just . . . we just didn't want you to try to go it alone."

Daniel nodded, his appreciation for the friends he'd forgotten he'd had growing tenfold.

_I remember now. We're all in this together, even when we don't want to be. This is what it means to be a part of this team, this . . . family._

His last few doubts and reservations melted away. No matter what, he wasn't alone.

Absentmindedly, took a swig of his coffee and almost gagged. "Ugh, I hate cold coffee!"

The tension finally broken, Sam smiled cautiously at him, and he did his best to grin back. All was forgiven.

After a few moments of mutual fidgeting during which Sam finally moved her feet down the stool's rungs and leaned forward onto the counter, she said in a conversational tone, "So what are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

"Thanksgiving?"

Sam gave him a genuine smile this time, her eyes regaining the sparkle they had lost since she'd noticed his old mug. "Yeah, you know! Turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy – ."

"Oh yeah, that," Daniel said wryly, both ashamed and amused. It was so strange how sometimes he could draw a complete blank on things, but as soon as he got enough information the memories would flood back as if they'd never been missing. This time he remembered enough to know that the team had gathered more than once to carve a turkey, and though it had been fine, the idea of doing it this year just didn't really appeal to him. Something about being around other people still threw him off. "I think I might take a little trip."

Sam's disappointment came and was buried so fast he wasn't even sure he saw it, and he really appreciated that. Something . . . perhaps one of those shrouded memories . . . said Sam could be very persuasive when she wanted to be. The fact that she was choosing to at least hear him out first before launching her campaign said a lot to him about the nature of their friendship. Still hiding her disappointment behind a teasing tone and clearly hoping his reluctance was not her fault, she said, "Oh? A vacation? Where to?"

Daniel shrugged, "I was thinking about Peñasco Blanco, a known home of the Anasazi."

"In New Mexico?" Sam asked, incredulous. Apparently, stepping through the 'gate would have been more acceptable then playing in their own backyard.

Daniel hesitated, his gaze wandering as he searched for the words to explain what he felt. Words that wouldn't hurt. "I can read about my past here in detail – in my own words even. I can revisit many of those places and meet those people all over again. But what I can't do while I'm here is rediscover who I was _before _those people knew me – before I knew about the Stargate and met you and Jack and Teal'c. I . . . I think need to experience that part of my life again."

His gaze came back to rest on Sam, and to his relief she smiled gently and nodded. "I think I understand, Daniel," she said quietly. Her smile widened. "I just hope the Colonel does too. I think I heard him say something about fishing . . ."

The odd apprehensive feeling that Daniel felt following that statement provided all the help he needed with that one. _Fishing with Jack is best avoided._ "I better make my plans then so I have a good excuse . . . A trip to New Mexico isn't going to cut it with him, is it?"

Sam grinned. "Nope."

"Great. I'll have to come up with something better . . ."

Sam glanced at her watch, and, apparently pleasantly surprised by how time had flown, said, "How about I help you out with that over lunch?"

Daniel checked his own watch and sure enough it was well past noon. Thanksgiving with three people didn't sound so good, but lunch with Sam? "Sure, why not."

Shoulder to shoulder Daniel and Sam walked out into the hall, abandoning the comfort zone of his office and his mug of stale coffee. Osiris sat on his throne, staring blankly into the empty room, forgotten.

_It's good to be home._


End file.
